


Painting a Portrait of Love

by Cryellow



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angry Gays, Drama, Drama & Romance, Family Drama, Kings & Queens, Love at First Sight, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags Are Hard, War, Yuri Plisetsky is a Brat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 07:47:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9427868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryellow/pseuds/Cryellow
Summary: Foreign Politics where never King Viktor's strong suit. Sure, he was nice and everyone loved him, but say one bad thing and it was all over. Looks like King Phichit of Thailand can experience this first hand. King Viktor is supposed to visit Thailand to follow with war proceedings, but it seems Phichit's butler is a little bit of a distraction. Or a big one. Funny, wasn't he here to start war? Oh well, might as well have fun while he's here. (Monarch AU! King!Viktor, Butler!Yuuri!, and Heir to the Throne!Yuri!)





	

**Author's Note:**

> HEY GUYS! I'm really in love with this AU and honestly it's taken me a lot of work! I hope you enjoy the beginning of such a wonderful journey, and I hope to write MANY a chapter for this fic. The first one or two chapters don't have smut, but I intend to write some, so prepare yourselves! A wonderful thank you to Zora, who continues to motivate me with her thirst and to help me find all the loopholes I inevitably make. Jump into this wonderful AU with me! ~Cryellow

Viktor looked into deep chocolate eyes. He didn’t think he had ever seen anything so beautiful and so completely mesmerizing than the eyes in front of him. Of course, with the eyes, comes the boy accompanied with them- no the  _ man _ . He was _ gorgeous  _ and King Viktor Nikiforov of Russia sure didn’t know how to handle himself. He was sure we was going to burst into flames right in the middle of dinner, and he was silently hoping he would so then he could at least get out of the hot-seat. 

 

He did a mental recap of all the events that lead him to being here, to meeting an angel in the flesh, and wondered how in the hell he was going to survive the rest of the night.

 

Yakov had chastised him. In all honesty he couldn’t help himself. There was a booming trade between Thailand and Russia, but the only reason it was so important was because of what was traded. Thai fabrics and jewelry were very important to the Russian people, and in turn the Thai’s agreed that Russian oils and minerals were essential to making those goods. Between the two countries there was a booming business, so both of the monarchs for those countries reveled in their shared bond. Often there would be official letters to each other with details about the latest happenings and news about war. Somehow, the Thai government had found a translator from Russian to Thai, so their communication was fairly easy, even though the interpreter wasn’t a native speaker of Russian, which was evident in their letters.

 

Everything was going great until King Phichit made his vital mistake. He wrote to King Viktor once, asking to see Thailand’s latest jewels on him for Phichit’s “collection” of portraits he has of his allies. King Viktor, while a little surprised, did as requested, and soon a new portrait was sent to the King of Thailand. After a short period, there was a reply from the other royal, a disgruntled reply in hasty words unfit for such a monarch. 

 

“ _ It is with great sorrow does the King of Thailand bid you send for a new painter. The one in thy possession is of poor skill and lacking talent. The angle of thy grace’s features and the setting for such a magnificent image was doused by the discontent structure and the weak copulation. By a show of fellowship, King Phichit offers his own painter, as he is of great knowledge for placement and lighting.”  _ King Viktor’s butler read the letter aloud, a scared tone in his shallow voice. 

 

“By grace, he is offering his own painter?” Viktor said, shocked at what the Thai was implying. King Viktor Nikiforov was in his study, a large room with a giant plush chair perfect for reclining. He rarely did work in the room, however the library was filled to the brim with book upon lovely book, and more often than not the King found he hadn’t read every title.  “Georgi, do I truly look horrendous in my portraits?”

 

The butler looked up from the parchment with a frown, his eyes looking curiously over at his King. He was reading it aloud, his back straight and his mouth pinched. “Nay, my lord. I believed the latest painting to be quite superb. You looked very regal, sire.” 

 

Viktor frowned to himself, a crease coming between his silver eyebrows. The King grasped his own chin with his hand and thought back to the hours spent in a seat while the brush of paint was heard in the eerily quiet room. How bad was it, truly, in order for a fellow king to offer their own subjects? 

 

“Is there more, or is the correspondence complete?” Viktor said a little harsh, a sour look on his regal features. King Phichit had requested the portrait, after all. For him to be so rude about its outcome was truly an act of most ill-will.

 

“ _ If your Highness finds the painter desirable, the King requires only a reply. One may amiably be brought forth within the next trade ship. In all honor, King Phichit the Magnificent of Thailand,”  _ Georgi finished, rolling the parchment in his gloved hands. Viktor huffed out a sigh but sat up in his chair, a steely look in his blue eyes as he faced the black-haired butler. He crossed his long legs in front of him and thought of a proper quip to the insult that the letter was. 

 

“I do believe the King requires a reply, does he not?” Viktor seethed. Georgi immediately burst into action and went to collect the supplies to write the letter of reply. After he gathered everything, Georgi sat down at the King’s desk and patiently waited for his King to start, the quill in his hand hovering inches from the paper. The King of Russia cleared his throat and began his statement. 

 

“ _ It is of sincerest apologizes does the King of Russia reply to eagerly waiting ears. His majesty was under the impression that King Phichit had requested a portrait of him in Thai jewels. If the painting is not to his liking, King Viktor urges its return, since such an image would plague his riotly-colored furnishings with actual beauty. If the King wishes to return the portrait, King Viktor will wait patiently for it’s return, but finds no complications with his own painter. He did, however, find an extra finger on King Phichit’s last portrait, and reminds him that perhaps his own company is ill-suited. The King of Russia also regards that if there was an issue with his portrait, it was of the dowdy jewels that dawned his person. With best wishes, King Viktor the Beautiful of Russia.” _

 

Viktor looked up from his place in the middle of the study where he had been absently pacing while talking. 

 

“Is that good enough?” Viktor said uncertainly, crossing his arms in front of him. “I do wish to get my point across.”

 

“Sire, it is an excellent use of wording and skill,” Georgi replied, setting down the quill. He held up Viktor’s seal stamp, waiting for him to seal the parchment with the royal insignia. With a discontented sigh, Viktor stamped the letter and knew something was about to start. 

 

It was about a fortnight after the letter was sent overseas, when King Viktor got a reply from his fellow monarch. Unfortunately, King Viktor was not the first to read it, but instead it was his mentor Yakov. 

 

“Vitya!” Yakov cried, storming into the throne room, where a very bored Viktor was trying to find the best lighting to read in. (He really had an affinity for these fantasy novels with the princes in disguise). “Vitya what is the meaning of this letter?” 

 

Viktor looked up unimpressed, and saw a familiar broken seal on a new piece of parchment in Yakov’s hand. His silver eyebrows drew up in confusion. “For what does the King of Thailand demand so?”

 

“He has quipped most beguilingly on the behalf of war between our lands! For what could have caused such an uproar,  _ your Highness? _ ” Yakov spat bitterly, thrusting the roll into Viktor’s hands. The King of Russia skimmed the thin paper, noting words like  _ impermeable, distraught,  _ and  _ affronted _ . It seems the King of Thailand wasn’t happy with Viktor’s reply, to which brought Viktor much joy. 

 

“King Phichit requested I get a new painter,” Viktor said simply, rolling up the parchment and looking with content over at his mentor. “I dare say it was of the most importance that I reply accordingly.” 

 

“Accordingly? New painter? Vitya-” Yakov tried, shock written on his face. 

 

“Why art thou reading my correspondence?” Viktor replied, his head tilting. “More important matters plague the nation than worrying about my postage.” 

 

“Training the heir to the throne, perhaps?” Yakov quipped irritated. “I was doing just that, when I was summoned by Georgi’s insistent callousness. He worries the kingdom is in danger of war with Thailand. Our people cannot survive such a skilled attack, your majesty. You know this as well as I. King Phichit’s armies are greater and more prepared than our woeful armies in this harsh winter.”

 

“King Phichit has dishonored our bond by his very notion that I would require a new painter,” Viktor repeated angrily. “If he requests war between us, I shall gladly obey.”

 

“Your  _ Highness _ ,” said Yakov with a frown. “I have yet to finish my duties with your son. He is not quite prepared for what taking over in your place might mean. Do not let him be forced into a role that he is insufficient to fill.”

 

Viktor stopped for a moment.  _ Your son.  _ Images flashed in Viktor’s mind. A begging grandfather, a swindled baby, a questioning look, a proclamation. Blonde hair and a haughty face, looking up at Viktor without humor. Yes, his son would take the throne from him if he would die, that’s the law. It has always been, however it’s still a shock to hear it.  _ Your son _ . For the life of him he didn’t think he would ever get used to hearing it.

 

“If war is upon us, then I have no intention of doing so, Yakov. King Phichit may very well approach our gates and kill our men, however I will not be turned stiff by such a cowardly waste of human flesh.” Viktor cried, standing up. 

 

“Forsooth, what has the King done that so plagues you? A new painter for why?”

 

“The mouth of the King of Thailand moves to state that my painter is ill suited for making my portraits. That he is unskilled enough to create sufficient artwork. He claimed that the portrait I had sent to him was of poor quality! He replied with “doused with discontent structure”! Do not tell me that this does not require my attention!”

 

“My lord, you are right,” Yakov said, and a surprised Viktor stood a little straighter and took a calming breath. 

 

“My apologies for being so haste, but thank you for-” Viktor started to say. He swept his hair to one side and flashed a 100-watt smile. 

 

“I will not tell you it does not require your attention. I will tell you that causing a war over a matter such as the content of a painting is brash, and that your country deserves a leader not so focused on petty melodramatics.” Yakov replied sternly, cutting him off. Viktor opened his mouth and then effectively shut it, completely shocked.

 

“Father?” The voice came from a teenage boy at the door to the throne room, a book in his hand. “What is the meaning for such disruptions of my studies?”

 

Viktor took a deep breath in and smiled at his son. His short blonde hair was pulled back so he could read, and his green eyes (very unlike the King’s icy blue, however, he takes from his mother) sparkled curiously from his spot in the doorway. “Yakov and I were just discussing foreign politics. Pardon me for interrupting your learning, Yuri.” 

 

“It was getting rather drab, anyway. Something regarding a war decades ago. I’d much rather content my time with everything else.” Yuri replied, rolling his eyes and folding his arms. “What matter of foreign policies plagues you, father?”

 

“Nothing of your concern,” Viktor replied sternly. He looked from his son back over to Yakov with a pointed look. “I daresay you should return to your studies, regardless how dull they are. Isn’t that right, Yakov? Or perhaps you would like to spend the day till morrow, arguing with your King?”

 

“No my liege,” Yakov said bitterly, a sour look on his face. He rather looked like he would take that offer, and fight with Viktor about it all week, however he understood his duties and his place, and neither of those were in the throne room arguing while the heir to the throne knows nothing about past wars. “I bid my leave. May death not hail you.” 

 

“And you as well,” Viktor replied, echoing the custom. His son and Yakov left the room, Yuri making an exasperated noise at the prospect of learning more about some age-old war. Viktor smiled a little as they left but then turned his attention to Georgi, who had been just casually listening to everything happening. 

 

“Georgi,” Viktor said, trying his best not to sound like he wanted to hang the butler. “Do impart to me why you addressed Yakov with your concerns.” 

 

“My Lord-” Georgi said sounding impossibly small. He kept his head down and away and his back was straight. “Y-Yakov requested to know the matters for my distress as of late. It was my belief that honesty be the best way to do so. I-I knew not that he would approach you so.”

 

“And what did you believe to happen with such concerns painted in his ears?!” Viktor said, his anger leaving him. He took a moment to compose himself and then faced the butler with a stern face. “I must reply to the King of Thailand. Refusing to do so would be a complete act of indecency and war. I wish to prevent such happenings for the sake of our people. Please collect the necessary materials to transcribe a new letter.”

 

“Your Highness,” Georgi said, scuttling off to get the right things. When he had left, Viktor took a deep sigh and sat back down, head in his hands.

 

“Nay, for what have I done to deserve such darting passions and such cornered failings, that I may be tormented so? Have I done the correct action? Naught, for I fear I have not done just that. Mayhaps I may reconcile somehow? But the insult is duelly mine to bear and I am but to act according to such rash movements. If war becomes this happening, then it shall fall on my shoulders alone. I shall bare this cross with all the others and persevere. My heir will not be left with such a pandemonium.”

 

Georgi came back with the supplies and Viktor straightened up, leaving his worries behind. This was important matters, and such insults should be treated accordingly. The butler faced his King with a slight frown and put his quill at the ready. 

 

“ _ Mighty King of the Thai people, _ ” Viktor began, composing his thoughts into tight little rows before he spoke. “ _ I do not wish for war between us, in fact the notion is distressing and crude. I wish only that you give your pardon for your request for a new painter, as mine is perfectly capable and amble in his art. Upon the simple commencement of some semblance of an apology, I will then henceforth ignore these happenings as nothing in complete. Such a detriment to your people could be avoided and such a long battle may be also substantial. By agreeing to these terms, we save both our people and our countries great distress. I suffice to say this is the best option, as opposed to the opposite, which is all-out war, in which the Russian people will put forth their greatest efforts. As many monarchs know I am plagued with the task of finding a consort, and would be obliged to regard the matter of war between us as unimportant. I request a hastened reply, and look forward to a more complete path of action between us.”  _ Viktor finished his statement and rubbed his face, feeling a slight stubble on his jaw. 

 

“Excellent linguistics, my liege.” Georgi said, handing Viktor the seal of the family crest so he could imprint in on the wax. Viktor pressed it lightly and sat back as Georgi handed it off to a separate attendant to the side of the throne room. 

 

“That will be all, Georgi,” Viktor said simply, still slightly angered by his presence. 

 

“Before I bidst my leave, would my lord like a warm bath drawn? Mila has already cleaned your bedchambers to perfection.”

 

“No,” Viktor said, grabbing his book once more. “I do think the realm of books is calling. I may go on a hunt later. Do bid her my thanks, Georgi.” 

 

Georgi nodded his head and left the throne, leaving Viktor essentially alone. King Viktor took in a deep breath and went back to his reading, worry in his features at the prospect of what was to come. War or Peace. 

  
  


~~~!~~~

 

It seemed the King of Thailand made his choice, and Viktor wasn’t quite too sure what he expected. 

 

“ _ Vitya _ ,” Yakov said, a shout rising up in his voice. “ _ What do you mean he wants you to visit Thailand for war proceedings?!” _

 

“I mean what I say,” Viktor said through gritted teeth. About two weeks later and King Phichit had made his choice. “He refuses to pardon his actions of gross delegation and insteads move so that we commence war proceedings. In a few weeks time I must visit Thailand and begin rounding up our men for battle. It is as simple as that.” 

 

“This is not simple, Viktor!” Yakov instinctively went back to Viktor’s name, and that’s when he really understood that Yakov was beyond angry. “This is  _ war _ your lips has demonstrated. How have you let this happen so?”

 

“I will not be insulted and I will not be commoned like the peasant folk. He wished to do both. If going to Thailand means that war has begun with help of my hand, then so be it. I am no fool, Yakov. I know the toil it will take on our people and our bond. I know that by commencing such priorities I leave my country in danger, but I will not stand for such diligent corruption of my own image.”

 

“It is the King of Thailand,” Yakov pointed out angrily. “Surely his opinion only matters little compared to a hundred others. The ball of Switzerland was very fine. Everyone loved you there, King Christophe said so himself!” 

 

“Christophe is one of my oldest friends, of course would reply as such. Perhaps others have in their souls the same ideals that King Phichit does? Then what? I let them beknownst that I will take such comments with a sliver of salt? Nay. I must act according to my honor, and that is to move with these actions. I will leave in a week's time and take the royal convoy. If you so wish to, you may come, as you are my royal advisor but I have no will to force you.”

 

“I will join, if only to give you a cool head and a sound mind! You are insufferable. You never listen to reason!”

 

“We will meet, converse, take stock of his land and the proceedings and then we will leave and prepare for battle. I do not wish for a large convoy- a simple one at most. We must not let King Phichit know that I have so many willing to battle on my side.”

 

“And what of Yuri?” Yakov demanded. “What of your son in these war proceedings? Or did you forget you have one?”

 

“I am not so forgetful,” Viktor snapped back angrily. “He must remain here, where it is safe and he can train. If anything he may spend the week we are gone training with the royal guard he likes so much- Otabek. They get along rather nicely and I would far rather he is happy and taken care of than accompany me on such a foreign affair.” 

 

“Your Highness, it is with kind regards do I note that such an event would be a welcome addition to his teachings, and by taking him you ensure his safety with us then without. Perhaps King Phichit has sent a spy or some adversary in your wake? What then?”

 

“Then I trust Otabek and the guard to protect Yuri with their life. Just as they would if I was remaining here. I will not take him where the possibility he could get harmed is far greater than if he stays. He is my only son.” Viktor said sternly, a clench in his jaw. It wasn’t just his emotions in the way. It was his  _ duty _ , and besides that, the King of Russia would be the last to admit that he loves his son more than he loves being King. Saying that type of thing in front of your people can get you killed. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all liked the beginning of somehting wonderful! I sure had fun writing it! Don't forget to share with your friends!! I always need validation in order to keep motivated, so please do!! Be sure to leave kudos, leave a comment , and check out [my blog!](too-many-fandoms-girl.tumblr.com) Bye ~Cryellow


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